


Buoyant

by romanticalgirl



Category: Hornblower (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-07 20:00:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/752466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Last one to the water</p>
            </blockquote>





	Buoyant

**Author's Note:**

> For [](http://clinkit.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://clinkit.livejournal.com/)**clinkit**. Also, just for the record? Buoyant is one weird lookin' word.
> 
> Originally posted 3-19-07

Archie glanced out over the long white stretch of sand, before looking back over his shoulder at Horatio. Horatio offered him nothing but a slight hint of smile as he followed behind Archie at a more sedate pace.

“You’ve grown far too used to your parole, Mr. Hornblower, if the prospect of being alone and unsupervised on this glorious day does nothing to change the controlled pace of your step.”

“The beach will be there regardless of our haste, Mr. Kennedy.”

“Ah, but our time on it decreases with every moment you dawdle.”

“Dawdle, do I, Mr. Kennedy?”

Archie gave him an impish grin. “If the shoe fits, Mr. Hornblower.”

“Very well, Mr. Kennedy. The last one to the beach…”

The rest of Horatio’s statement was lost as he took off running, passing Archie quickly with his long stride. Archie gave out a shout of laughter and raced after Horatio, leaping over the rocks and small roots that littered the path down the cliff.

Horatio was leaning against one of the large rocks that peppered the shore, breathing heavily. His waistcoat was undone, his shirt billowing slightly in the faint breeze, a sheen of perspiration lighting his brow.

“What, Mr. Hornblower?” Archie panted the words, bending over and resting his hands upon his knees. “The last one to the beach, what?”

“That’s obvious, isn’t it, Archie? The last one to the beach takes the first dip.” He moved again, quickly, a hard tackle that sent Archie’s arms flailing as he stumbled and landed on his rump in the wet sand just as a small wave crashed on the shore, soaking his breeches.

Archie looked up, blinking against the bright sun, against Hornblower’s wide, bright smile and extended his hand for help to his feet. “You do know what this means, don’t you, Mr. Hornblower?”

Horatio reached down, grasping Archie’s hand. “What is that, Mr. Kennedy?”

“This means-” Archie gave a sharp tug, sending Horatio sprawling face first into the oncoming wave. “War.”

Horatio rose up, his face wet, his hair clinging in large, wet curls to his head. His dark eyes were dangerous and foreboding, but Archie held his gaze. “You want war, Mr. Kennedy?”

A shiver ran through Archie, but he tilted his chin up defiantly. “Take your best shot, Mr. Hornblower.” He had barely finished the sentence when Horatio shifted, throwing his weight on Archie and pressing him back beneath the surf. Archie caught his breath just as he went under, using the strange weightlessness of the salt water to turn the tide against Horatio and turn him beneath him.

They fought, laughing and splashing in the waves, clothes soaked and nearly see-through, until they both agreed to a truce. Archie eyed Horatio dubiously, plucking at his white shirt and pulling the remaining bit of the tail from Horatio’s breeches.

“What are you doing, Mr. Kennedy?”

“Checking, Mr. Hornblower, to make sure all you wear is a flag of truce and are not hiding false colors beneath it.” He laughed and clapped his hand wetly against Horatio’s shoulder.

“You doubt my sincerity, Mr. Kennedy.” Horatio adopted a hangdog expression. “You wound me.”

“I do not doubt your sincerity, Mr. Hornblower. I simply appreciate both your cunning and your desire to be victorious.” Archie let his hand slide down Horatio’s back then pulled it away, unbuttoning his own waistcoat. “I think we’d best let these dry before we head back. I fear the Don likely to think we’ve tried to swim for our freedom.”

He shrugged off his waistcoat then pulled his shirt free, draping both on one of the rocks. Gathering his hair in his hands, he wrung the salt water from it, tugging the ribbon free and laying it to dry as well. Finished, he tilted his head back to the sun and stretched out his arms, smiling as the heat beat down on him.

When he opened his eyes, Horatio was watching him, that strange darkness again in the depths of his gaze. “You look every bit a drowned rat, Mr. Hornblower.”

“Flatterer, Mr. Kennedy. No wonder you reach such heights of popularity.” Horatio tugged his ribbon free, raking his hands through his long curls. “The ladies all swoon when Mr. Kennedy reaches shore.”

“I say, Mr. Hornblower.” Archie unfastened his breeches and tugged the wet fabric off, tossing them on the rock as well before settling on the sand, his small clothes soaked through as he lay back, resting his head on his hands. “Do I set you to swooning?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Kennedy.” Horatio slipped off his waistcoat and shirt, again with that same deliberate slowness. Archie watched the movements, the fine muscles moving under Horatio’s skin. “Do I look like a lady?”

“Ladies would die for those curly locks of yours, I’m sure,” Archie informed him with a smile as Horatio stripped down to his small clothes as well. They were equally as see-through as Archie’s, past the point of decency and not worth the actual point of wearing them. Archie narrowed his eyes as he looked at Hornblower, turning his head to watch him sink down to the sand. “Though the rest of you they would envy for other reasons.”

“Indeed?” Horatio turned on his side, his hand splayed in the sand between them. “What reasons are those?”

“Innocence in some matters becomes you, Mr. Hornblower. But I have shared a room in port with you on many occasion and I know that this is not one of those matters.” Archie turned as well, his own hand near Hornblower’s, their fingertips brushing. “You have much worth coveting for whatever purpose.”

Horatio licked his lips. “And do you covet it, Archie?”

“We covet what we cannot have, Mr. Hornblower.” He managed a slight smile and a nod at Horatio’s look. “Horatio.”

Horatio’s hand moved slightly, threading his fingers through Archie’s. “And if you can, Mr. Kennedy? If you can have it?”

“That would be an entirely different situation, Mr. Hornblower.” Archie’s breath stalled in his chest, refusing to move past his lips. “I cannot even f-fathom how…”

“Can you not, Archie?”

Archie closed his eyes and swallowed, his fingers tightening against Horatio’s. “H-Horatio…”

“I taste of salt and sunshine, Mr. Kennedy.” Horatio shifted closer, unlacing their fingers so that he could place his hand on the curve of Archie’s hip. “Laughter. Friendship. You cannot covet those, as you’ve given them to me.” Horatio leaned in, his breath ghosting over Archie’s lips. “Shall I return them?”

Archie felt his lips part, shaking his head ever so slightly. “Share them, Mr. Hornblower. Only a word different.” He bridged the distance between them, his lips finding Horatio’s softly, carefully. “And yet a world of difference.”  



End file.
